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B_25


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More Blog Posts679

  • Today
    Deeper Appreciation Comes from Traveling On Foot

    I don't know what it was that compelled me to go outside for the first time without an objective in mind. To simply take to the streets and wander and wonder how such an act could be productive. Those first two sentences currently establish me perfectly as being a twat with something special being shoved up his ass.

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    2 comments · 71 views
  • Monday
    Empty of Stories

    Barren of words

    9 comments · 196 views
  • 2 weeks
    The Temptation to Skip a Day

    I suppose it'll always be there.

    The urge not to write. To spend the day doing as you please without the burden that is the prodction of words. It's a constant test, a never-ending challenge of your skill—or, as some might say, the proving of your lack of. I've come to wonder the dictomy of being a seen writer.

    Of having to write well opposed to writing.

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    3 comments · 117 views
  • 3 weeks
    I Want a Ferret

    Anyone have any experince?

    12 comments · 148 views
  • 3 weeks
    Finally Have a Home

    Read More

    19 comments · 170 views
Jan
21st
2022

Missing You, Soul Sister · 10:05am January 21st

Hey Soul Sister,

It's been a while since I've written to you like this for help. I don't suppose there's much help that you can do for me now. But the truth is that when we go to someone for help, it's the talking to them that does the trick. Some people allow you to talk a certain way. You were always so open and caring and accepting. I didn't have to be anything to you.

I think that carries on to death. That what you were people when you were alive, carries on, even though you're gone. I can only write this way when I'm talking to you. I couldn't ever speak like this to myself. It's because you allow me to be this way. You, being you, allowed me to be this me.

Little confusing, right?

I wanted to let you know that I'm going to quit my job soon; I'm going to do it as respectfully as I can. AiDs and I have this crackshot idea that if we write a lot for various sites that, maybe, we can finally make something ourselves as writers. I've never really taken such a risk before in my life. It's not too much of a risk. I'll be okay for a month or so before I would have to go looking for work again. There's a chance I could score a job worse than the one I have—but that's just a chance that I'll have to take.

But a part of me really hopes it works out or, at the very least, works out well enough to give the promise of potential. We could write our hearts out and have it tank. In truth—the idea is a little foolish. But this idea of mine, I've held it for nearly ten years. The other stuff is written so I have backups in case it fails. But this idea is something that I spent a lot of time building and caring for.

The truth of the matter is that I don't have much more left in me when it comes to my job, to the world around me. I'd always felt that, even though I'm not much good at it, that writing would be the thing to save me. Save me from the lack of a future, and the being stuck of where I currently am. I'm always afaird of that quote. "That which looks like distant hope... will lead you to despair."

But you have to take chances in this life. To risk going all in to see what happens. I'll be hurt and sore if I invest myself and come out with nothing. But at least I can be sure, once and for all, that I'll need to find something else in this life to make a living from.

But I more so wanted to write a letter to you because I miss you. Because I'm forgetting about you. That life is going by far too fast, and I've been dealing with so much that I rarely get the chance to think or reflect about you. I'm sure if I read our messages or your stuff, that you would come alive for me again. A few friends have returned in my life, those who felt dead and distant in my head for the longest time, but feel close and real once more.

I hope the same happens when I'm able to visit you again.

I've come to learn it's the connections we form is what causes us to feel alive. That our friendship is what caused me to feel unique, special, where the rest of the world barely even sees me as a drone. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have felt like a younger brother, or known that I had this side to me. This is all selfish talk about myself, I know. You taught me a lot, and there was much about you that I loved.

The problem is that, once someone dies, there's less that you can ask them about.

I miss you, Soul Sister.

I wish we lived in a world where none had to die, where we all expand to beyond the stars, and we create marvellous things to ensure life is something is worth living. But I supposed humanity needs a reset. That by a hundred, we would learn all the morals and stories, progressed as far as someone could, and have nothing else after that. There's a lot of bored millionaires out there.

I don't wished you to have lived forever.

But I do wish that you lived a little longer.

Keep well, Soul Sister.

People still miss you.
~ Yr. Soul Sibling, B

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Comments ( 6 )

So sad, so heartwarming. I wish you well in your new venture.

Comment posted by Herald of Opera deleted January 21st

Well we are here for you too

Comment posted by B_25 deleted January 21st
Comment posted by Herald of Opera deleted January 21st
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